


Little Talks

by Galadwen



Series: late-night SPN promt exchange [3]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bondage, Demon!Dean, Dom Jensen, M/M, Rimming, Roleplay, Smut, Sub Misha, also sort of destiel, b!jensen, but it's not really established, cas, characters talk, misha being shy, sort of dub-con roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 09:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2304521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galadwen/pseuds/Galadwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time, they were both drunk, so Jensen is not quite sure what happened. The second time, he was only pretending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Talks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sneery69](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sneery69/gifts).



> A gift for my dear Sneery69, queen of cockles, that gave me the prompt "Misha actually being shy about letting Jensen rim him because someone he slept with before was totally NO"
> 
> I really hope you like it, i'm sorry if it's not exactly what you imagined but i got carried away a little.
> 
> Trigger Warning: there is bondage and there is a kind of dub-con roleplay. But everything is completely consensual.

The first time, they were both drunk, so Jensen is not quite sure what happened. Except that it ended in mutual masturbation and a hickey on his collarbone. He remembers that the first kiss had been tentative, almost a joke, but it had turned to fierce within the fraction of a second.

The second time, he was only pretending.

When Misha had walked up on him, pinning him on the wall, he was only half drunk. He had let him kiss him and touch him and ended up moaning and sweating in a tangle of bed sheets. And he had let a corner of his mind think that it was glorious.

It’s not like Jensen doesn’t know, it’s not like he’s caught by surprise by himself, because he has been wanting it, he always knew. He knew when he was a teenager and his wet dreams sometimes featured tall boys with strong arms. He knew when he allowed his fantasies to run wild, and they ended up in strange, unexpected places made of rough skin and broad shoulders. They were weird, but never uncomfortable.

But he never allowed himself.

It had been hard enough like this, with his gentle face in a land of cowboys. And then, life happened. Society, family, producers and managers: everyone had expectations.

And then he had met Danneel, and fell in love, and married and he was so, so happy because she was just so amazing and he loved her. He loves her still so much, every day of his life.

And then he had met Misha and his heart had done cartwheels and his world had shattered and crumbled.

Because Danneel was moon and stars and the ray of light in the morning, and Misha was thunder and lighting and the alien light of distant galaxies. And he knows he is selfish because he wants to keep them both for himself. But he doesn’t have the courage.

And that is why he keeps upsetting people, at cons and everywhere. He wants to scream that he doesn’t know where he and Dean end, because he doesn’t know what came first, and _yes_ Dean does look at Cas _that_ way, but only because he can’t help looking at Misha like that, but he and Dean are both fucking cowards when it comes to feelings. Booze is their shield.

He likes the bottle, he gets to drink temporary solutions and fill it with problems in return. Gets to trap and seal them for at least some time.

And then, there are these moments, the moments he makes out of the fabric of reality, bending and folding and carefully cutting through space and time, carving islands in the stream of life. In these moments, he wants to be everything and feel everything and give everything. Moments like this one.

It’s the third time and neither of them is actually drunk.

He has Misha on his back, sprawled over the sheets, and he has been licking and nibbling at his soft skin, drawing lustful and wonderful sounds from his throat. When he tentatively flickers the tip of his tongue on the sensitive skin around his hole, here it is. The thing that his brain didn’t fully register the first two times: Misha shifts and draws back. He tries again, with more determination now, letting his tongue circle him completely, and Misha does it again: he shifts uncomfortably and gently tries to pull Jensen up toward his cock. He is genuinely surprised by Misha being shy, and he’s also a little disappointed because he wants Misha to feel good, to feel everything and doesn’t want him to hold back.

Jensen doesn’t know what it is that clicks in him when he smacks Misha’s buttocks and his voice settles to the rough, low rumble that is Dean. When he gives it an ever sharper, darker edge and commands “Stay put, angel”.

Misha immediately stills, and Jensen almost hears him holding his breath.

He gets up slowly, falling into character by instinct: it’s a second nature to him by now, like breathing. Misha is looking at him with a quizzical face, and he gives him a wicked grin, eyes flashing a mix of danger and desire that almost looks black.

“You’re at my mercy now, no point in struggling.”

He watches Misha intensely, looking for approval and asking silently to be trusted, because he’s sure that if he has to break character and talk about it, he will never be able to do it again. He sees understanding dawning on Misha’s face, then his lips quirk upward just a second and his head bends slightly in a subtle nod. And it’s all Jensen needs.

He rises and silently goes around the room, collecting their belts and clothes and in a few, precise movements he has Misha tied down to the bed, hands behind his head and legs spread, ankles tied to the bedposts.

“Dean” Misha’s voice is down two tones, in Castiel’s low thunder “You don’t have to do this, we can fix this.”

The low chuckles that escapes Jensen’s lips gives Misha actual chills.

“Oh, but I want to, pretty angel” He takes a pillow and settles it under Misha’s hips, then leans over him “I’ve been wanting this for a long time, but old me was just so repressed in all his human crap” he shakes his head slowly “Now, you and me can have some fun.” He smirks, and Misha—Cas, swallows hard, with a mix of anticipation and fear that makes him lightheaded.

“Dean-“ there is a plea and a sad edge in Misha’s voice “You don’t want to do this like this…”

For a moment Jensen almost forgets that they’re playing, but then he grins again “But that’s exactly how I want to do this” He moves between Misha’s legs “You can try to fight it, if you still have some grace left. Or you can just enjoy it. I know you want to.” He traces lines on Misha’s chest and his fingernails leave faint red trails on his fair skin. Jensen’s voice is even lower when he speaks again “I’m going to rim you, angel, and I’m going to do it so good you’re going to beg and scream. I’ll lap and lick at your precious hole like it’s a fucking ice cream and I’ll fuck you with my tongue until you can’t take it anymore.” Jensen lets one finger circle Misha, and feels him shiver “And by the end of it, the mighty angel of the lord will be a whiny, needy slut begging to be fucked, soiled with desire and dark thoughts. And then I’ll fuck you. I’ll fuck you hard. Until you beg me to stop, and I won’t.”

And Jensen—Dean, keeps his promise.

He goes down on Misha and starts lapping and licking and Misha shifts and whimpers but there’s not much he can do, limbs tied and Jensen’s hands pressing firmly on his hips. Jensen is relentless, and licks and probes with his tongue, stroking painfully slow and pressing into the tight muscles. Misha soon moans and whines incoherently, hips arching up, aching with desire and need and want. And when Jensen adds fingers to his torture he screams and begs.

“Oh god, Dean…Please, Dean… I beg you I need…I need you…please fuck me, oh god!”

A corner of Jensen’s mind is really amazed that Misha didn’t break character in all of this, but he doesn’t really register it because he feels his blood rushing and ringing in his ears at the rasping, panting rumble of Castiel begging him to fuck him.

He rises and straddles him, sitting on his abdomen, the tip of his cock brushing on Misha’s lips.

“Open your mouth, pretty angel”

Misha flutters his eyes open and obeys, swallowing Jensen, who starts thrusting and fucking his mouth.

“God, it feels so good” he pants, hips rocking back and forth “You are so good at this Cas, maybe I should just come down your throat and don’t fuck you at all?” he smirks, and Misha flashes him a murderous look. Jensen chuckles “But I’m feeling generous today.”

He moves from Misha’s chest, and quickly removes the ties that hold his legs, grabbing them and keeping them raised. He pops up some lube and stretches Misha some more, because as much as he’s enjoying the act, he doesn’t really want to hurt him.

“Oh—for god’s sake just fuck me, please…” Misha pleads, shivers running through his spine, legs quivering.

“As you wish, angel boy” He whispers back, and sheathes himself in him, while Misha exhales in pleasure. Jensen tries to keep it slow at first, but urge and desire take over him and he starts driving into him at a rough pace, pounding and thrusting in earnest. Misha’s moans get louder with every thrust, his voice hoarse as he babbles “Yes—God, Dean, want you…wanted you so bad…”

“You like it like this, don’t you angel?” Jensen pants, grabbing Misha’s cock and stroking it at the same harsh speed “Come for me, Cas.”

“Oh yes, Dean, fuck…yes!” Misha shouts and jerks off violently, body shaking and hands straining against the belt that still holds them. Jensen keeps pushing in him until he trips over the edge and comes, eyes shutting close and a hoarse cry escaping his throat.

He collapses on Misha and pants heavily for a few seconds, both of them coming down of their climaxes and slowly returning to reality. Jensen slides out and off Misha, gently removing the belt and stroking his arms. Their movements are stiff and slow, senses still pleasantly numb.

They remain in silence for a while, sated and exhausted, until Misha speaks.

“Well, that was something” he smirks in Jensen’s direction, who grins in return.

“You seemed shy, thought I’d shake you up a bit.”

Misha huffs “Yeah..I had a bad experience once.”

“Uh?”

“A guy I hooked up with, long time ago…He didn’t like rimming, he was an hygiene freak or something. Anyway, he kinda scared me.” He says it with a casual tone, but Jensen can feel the embarrassment underneath it. He strokes Misha’s arms lightly and goes up to his cheek, until Misha closes his eyes and leans on Jensen’s palm.

“Well, it seems this worked fine” Jensen teases him, and Misha chuckles, head resting on Jensen’s shoulder now.

“It did.” He stays silent for a moment, then asks “Does that mean you’re on board with Destiel, then?”

Jensen laughs “Oh god! I don’t know, I think the problem is Cockles more than Destiel, now” he smirks and pinches Misha lightly on the thigh.

“You know the name for our ships?”

“I’m very fandom-savvy now, I have twitter” Jensen replies in his best Castiel impression, which draws a full laugh out of Misha. Jensen finds himself laughing heartily, too. It always happens, when he’s around Misha’s bright laughter.

When they manage to stop, Jensen glances at Misha, a sober look in his eyes.

“Honestly though, I think Dean…I think Dean loves Cas. He’s just too repressed. And scared.” The last word is just a whisper. Misha furrows his brows.

“Scared?”

“That Cas can’t possibly love him” and somehow there’s sadness in Jensen eyes, and Misha doesn’t know who he’s talking about, but decides to go along with it.

“But Cas does.” He replies, not breaking eye contact, and kisses him.


End file.
